Shearing Silence
by Icephantom77
Summary: Future Oneshot! Sam Fenton works a half time job in a barbers shop. One Saturday morning a very familiar, annoying face appears, with what appears to be one of her spawns. But there's something...different about this girl. Does the saying "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree" apply here? Or is Sam about to discover something new?


**A/N okay I apologize in advance for anyone who reads this. This is my first story on this website so I've decided to start small with a oneshot I made up a while ago, I just didn't have the time to put it into words sooooooo here we go FIRST FANFIC YAY**

33 year old Samantha 'Sam' Fenton lounged behind the counter of a small barbers shop in the infamous little town known as Amity Park. It was Saturday, and business was slow. Sam had only seen one to two clients at the most. So now, at 10:09 am, the young woman decided to relax a bit, and enjoy the remainder of her morning.

Silence seemed golden in the tiny store, much like the sunlight that seeped in through the front windows, which were advertising the company's latest scam to score some extra cash. The golden rays lit up the room, making the usually tan walls seemingly glow a soft peaceful hue. The floorboards were polished so much that the young woman could she her, albeit a bit distorted, reflection in the wood.

Even the decorative plants played a roll in this perfect scene. Their big full green leaves contrasted beautifully with the sunlight, making little shadows along the walls.

The mirrors that covered the walls caught no movement at all. It looked as if time had frozen.

Sam sighed blissfully and set down the magazine she was reading, her amethyst gaze lazily sweeping across the shop. She sent a silent thank you to Clockwork for this peaceful moment before she stretched out in her chair, soaking up the rays of sunlight which would have caused fourteen year old Sam to scowl.

After high school, the young woman had decided to ditch the whole 'goth' theme. She broadened the array of colors in her wardrobe mixing in more colors with the blacks and purples in her closet. Except for pink. Never would she lay a finger on a fabric that as much as resembled the hue.

The ending result? Punk Rock Sam.

Suddenly a loud 'ding' startled the young woman out of her thoughts. Sam groaned mentally as she sat up in her chair to check the computer to see the-

"I didn't schedule an appointment. This is kind of last minute."

Oh. Well then.

Sam scowled at the computer, before grabbing a pen and paper.

"Name?"

"Paulina Baxter."

Sam's hand froze in the middle of scribbling down her notes. She slowly looked up, and her amethyst gaze landed of a very familiar, very _annoying_ face.

"...Paulina?"

The Latina, obviously confused by the tone of Sam's voice, looked up from the email she was reading. It took a second or two, but suddenly a look of recognition came across her flawless face.

"Sam? Sam Manson?"

The two former rivals stared at each other, before Paulina smirked.

"Very predictable. The loser you were in high school, I'd have expected you to go into a profession like this. Serving normal folks and their needs." She said, shaking her head in mock pity, "meanwhile, I'm traveling around the world, modeling for big time companies and making more money then you could imagine."

Sam rolled her eyes, letting the snide comment roll off of her back.

Just like old times.

"I'll have you know that I have more money in my bank account than you will ever hope to have in your entire modeling career. The only reason I'm taking this job is to show good work ethic for my child." Sam growled. "and by the way, it's Fenton now, not Manson."

Paulina scoffed this time, and put her phone away. "So you _did_ marry Fenton. That's cute."

"What are you here for anyway, Paulina."

"Oh, the appointment isn't for me. I would move to the ghost zone before I let any normal person touch my hair. It's actually for my daughter. This is her usual place and she wanted me to take her because I'm home for the weekend." The Latina explained, jutting a perfectly manicured finger behind her as she rummaged through her purse.

Sam's amethyst gaze swept towards the direction the model was pointing towards, and noticed a young teen, about the age of fourteen, sitting in one of the wooden waiting chairs by the window. She had never seen the girl before, so the young woman figured that she was one of her co-workers clients.

What a perfect day to be working alone.

The girl had long, blonde (obviously from her father) board straight hair that fell to her waist. She wore a pair of ripped dark skinny jeans, and a plain red tee shirt with a small grey cardigan over a petite figure and slightly tanned skin. Her eyes (obviously inherited from her mother, for they were the same beautiful sapphire/turquoise hue) glanced around the room in an observant way, taking in every detail.

Basically, she was a blonde, slightly paler, Paulina mini-me.

Sam mentally groaned for what seemed like the millionth time since Paulina walked in. If this girl was anything like her mother, this would not end well. Especially since Sam was the one holding the sharp utensils.

"Tell her to go to the furthest chair on the right. It's just me today so I'll be the one to trim her hair."

Sam didn't wait for a reply as she turned and walked into the back to get her supplies. When the woman came back out, she found that the girl was already sitting in the chair, patiently awaiting for her.

Sam briskly made her way over to her, set her supplies down, and got to work.

The girls golden locks looked clean enough, so she didn't bother making the girl get up and go wash it, opting instead to take a brush and start working through any tangles in her hair.

"What would you like today? A trim or a new style?"

 **(A/N idk if this is how most hair stylists do it, I'm just going with my personal experiences when I get my hair trimmed)**

Sam continued brushing, waiting for a snide comment or demand to come from the girl.

But nothing came.

Sam stopped, and looked in the mirror in front of them, locking gazes with the girl, who was patiently waiting with a page from a magazine in her hand. The young woman stood bewildered as the teenager gestured for her to take it, her calm eyes never breaking contact with her amethyst ones.

Sam slowly took the crumpled piece of paper from the girls hand, and smoothed it out the best she could. She stared at the picture for a minute, before gazing up at the teenager.

"You want this?"

The girl did nothing but give a small nod.

"Are you sure?"

Another nod.

Sam, completely speechless for once in her life, slowly set the paper down on the counter, picked up her scissors, and went to work on the fourteen year olds golden locks.

Sam had been working on the girls hair for a good ten minutes, trimming away little bits and pieces of gold that landed in a pile at her feet. The entire time she had felt really awkward. And Sam Fenton doesn't do awkward.

She looked up at the girl as she cut off another lock of hair with a strategically planned 'snip' of her scissors, trying to find something to spark a conversation. It took only two seconds for her to realize that the girl was completely engrossed a book, her aqua gaze flickering across the page and her face pursed in concentration.

The woman, although quite startled at the sudden appearance of the paperback, (where had it even come from...?) decided that it was her best course of action.

"So...What're you reading?"

The teenager jumped slightly at the sudden noise, much to Sam's annoyance as she almost cut off an extra strand of hair, and blinked a few times as the question sunk in. She stared at Sam for so long The amethyst eyed woman almost regretted asking the question, but then, the girl held up the book for her to read.

 _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_

Sam stared wide eyed at the title before smiling hesitantly. Although the silence from the teen was weird, she was getting used to it.

"That's a really good series, you like it?"

The girl once again stared emotionlessly at the woman, her eyes boring into the raven haired employee, before nodding.

Sam snipped off another piece of hair, before moving to another strand.

"That's good, who's your favorite character?"

The teen instantly reached up to her collar bone, grabbed a silver chain, and pulled out a...cork?

It took Sam a minute to get the reference, but when she did, she smiled.

"Luna Lovegood, huh?"

The girl nodded vigorously, but stopped quickly realizing that her hair wasn't _quite_ done yet. The ever growing smile on her face never left though.

Sam suddenly felt a spark of fondness for the young lady in the chair, and smiled back.

"She's a very unique character, why d'you like her?"

The girl sat for a moment, deep in thought, before she shrugged and waved her hands out and around, as if gesturing to everything in the-oh.

"So you like everything about her? That's cool."

The girl smiled again, before pointing to the cork, and then to her chest, right over her heart.

"You like her intentions?"

The girl paused for a moment and tilted her head from side to side in the universal 'sorta' sign, before she did the motion again, a bit more prominent.

"...she reminds you of yourself?"

The teen beamed that time, her aqua eyes sparkling, and she nodded, clutching the book close to her chest.

Sam smiled for what seemed like the millionth time, for both her and the girl, before snipping off one last piece of hair.

"Okay, you're done." She announced as she set down he scissors and rubbed her cramping hand. "What do you think?"

The gold haired teen leaned foreword in her chair, tilting her head from side to side, admiring her new hairstyle. Gone was the three foot mop of hair her mother had forced her to have.

The girl nodded faintly, and stepped off of the chair. The clutched the book to her chest as she made her way towards her mother, who was staring in disappointment and horror at her daughters new pixie cut.

"What the heck did you do to my daughters hair?!" The Latina screeched as she bolted upright.

"What she wanted me to do." Sam answered emotionlessly as she made her way over to the counter, but not before she missed the scowl the girl sent her mother when her back was facing her.

"Your total is $47.50."

"There's no way I'm paying for that. I should hav-"

The model was interrupted by her daughter, who had stepped in front of her mother and gently set a fifty dollar bill down on the counter. The teen then proceeded to turn to her mother and give her a stern look, before waving her hands in a...weird...gesture...

Same mind stopped working and her hands almost dropped the change she was holding.

That was sign language.

The girl was _mute._

Paulina stared at her daughter for a bit obviously not liking whatever she had said, before she sighed and reached into her pocket to grab her phone.

"Fine. If this is what you want I'll stand it." The Latina looked up at Sam who was holding the change. "She said keep it. We don't need it anyway."

She then turned and briskly walked out the door, leaving her daughter no choice but to follow.

Sam followed the duo as they exited the doorway, and walked out of sight.

The woman sighed, and stuffed the money into her pocket, before picking up a broom and going over to sweep up the hair on the floor. She was about halfway over to her station when there was a knock on the door.

Sam turned around to see the girl standing there, her aqua eyes instantly making contact with hers. The girl waved, and then she brought her left hand to her lips, and brought it down ever so slightly in the woman's direction. She then darted off down the direction she had come from, leaving Sam alone once again in the silent shop.

:: 8 o'clock that evening ::

Sam was at home, sitting on the couch. Her husband and four year old son on her left and her seven year old daughter on her right. Danny was currently entertaining their children by making snow ice figures of their requests, so Sam had some time to herself.

She brought up Google on her laptop, and typed in 'basic sign language'

It didn't take Sam long to find what she was looking for.

Paulina Baxter's daughters unspoken words lay in a special format on a computer screen right in front of her eyes.

" _Thank you."_


End file.
